


It's Just Me

by explosim



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gender Issues, Genderfluid!Takao, M/M, seriously don't read if you're sensitive to gender issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 09:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1261231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explosim/pseuds/explosim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to love yourself when your body feels like a prison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Just Me

**Author's Note:**

> i don't really like how some of it turned out but

Takao barged into their apartment, not caring for the other tenants. Kicking off his shoes haphazardly, he stormed into the living room, throwing himself down onto the couch. Midorima followed, frowning in confusion. They'd just been out shopping; Midorima looking at ties, when Takao walked over and demanded they leave. He was angry, remained so for the rest of the ride and refused to tell Midorima what was wrong.

“Takao?” Midorima took off his shoes, fixing Takao's beside his.

“Yes,” came the terse reply.

“Would you like to talk about it?” There was a brief silence and then-

“No.” Midorima sighed and went to sit down next to him on the couch.

“Don't be stubborn. Something's obviously bothering you.”

“Don't be annoying,” Takao shot back, “It's not a big deal.”

“If it wasn't a big deal you wouldn't be so upset. What's wrong?”

“ _Nothing's wrong,_ Midorima _,”_ Takao hissed, “Just drop it.” But Midorima wasn't going to. He could tell, from the way Takao's back hunched over and the small droop at the corner of his mouth, that he was going to fall into one of his moods again. Those time periods where he was so miserable nothing could be done to cheer him up. They were the worst, in Midorima's opinion, simply because he could tell Takao was suffering and he had no way to help. He didn't even know where to begin.

“No,” he turned his body to face Takao's, “Please, just tell me why you're so upset. Was it the salesperson? Did they do something wrong-”

“Fine!” Takao exploded, jumping up from the couch and turning to face Midorima, “You wanna know what's wrong, Midorima? _I'm wrong._ I’m so far past fucked up it's not even funny,” Midorima frowned in confusion. “You wanna know what the salesperson did? We were walking past the woman’s section and they made some offhand comment about the _weird gross_ men that sometimes shop there,” Takao turned away from him and started pacing back and forth. “Too bad _I’m_ one of those 'weird gross' guys. Or at least I'd like to be,” his voice cracked, “Because I feel like it, you know? Sometimes I wake up and I'm not _me_. I don't feel like a man and I don't want to look like one either. Which is so insanely fucked up I– Fuck, sorry– Shin-chan, I–,” Takao rubbed furiously at his eyes.

Midorima frowned, brain trying to catch up. “So you... I- I don't understand. Sometimes you don't feel like a man?” Midorima tried to clarify, “So....you're a girl? I'm sorry, I’m not quite following.”

“Maybe. No. Sometimes?” Takao turned to face him again, “I mean, I'm still me, I've always been me, but sometimes I’m a me that wants to look different.”

“Alright,” Midorima nodded slowly, trying to understand. So Takao sometimes didn't feel like 'Takao'? “But earlier, why did you get so upset? Surely you-”

“Because I'm tired, alright?,” Takao shouted. “I'm tired of the days when I see myself, when I see what everyone else sees, and it's not who I am. I'm tired of the days when my body doesn't feel like my own. When it feels like a fucking cage with a million locks I could never hope to break. And I really. Fucking. hate it. And when they made that comment, I just felt like shit. Like I was supposed to hate myself on certain days because I'd be disgusting if I didn't.”

“Fuck them,” Takao's eyes snapped to Midorima in shock, “You do what makes you happy. If you feel like presenting as a girl then just do it,” Takao stared at Midorima. Did he not just hear-

“And how the fuck am I supposed to do that?” he shouted in exasperation, “am I supposed to just walk up to people and say 'oh hi, Takao here. Except not really. Today I’m a girl, nice right? Oh yesterday, you ask? I was a boy then. Might be a girl tomorrow too, but don't be surprised if I show up as a dude again.' Am I really supposed to expect others to understand that? For _you_ to be okay with that?” Midorima pulled him back down to the couch and started wiping at his face. Takao blinked in surprise, he hadn't even realized he was crying.

“Yes. Even if they don't understand they can at least respect it. And if they can't respect that then they aren't worth your time. They aren't worth _our_ time.” He pulled Takao closer, resting their foreheads together. “No matter what, you're always going to be _you._ The same loud mouthed mildly annoying person I happened to fall for. All I want is for you to be happy. It's not fair that you have to suffer. That you have to-,” Midorima sighed softly, “It hurt, you know. To see you so unhappy and not know the reason or even what to do. You should have told me earlier. I could have tried to help instead of inadvertently making things worse. I could have-”

“You could have left,” Takao interrupted. “You could have decided it was too much and just left.”

Midorima sighed, “I don't think I could ever leave you. You've put up with so much of my-,” he smiled softly, “my shit, as you like to say. It would be extremely selfish of me to not help you with this. Especially when your request isn't even illogical.” Takao buried his face in Midorima's chest. It felt so good to finally have it out in the open, even if it was just with one person. It was one person he cherished more than almost anyone else and he honestly didn't know what he would've done if Midorima had shut him down.

“What if we start slow?” Midorima asked as he rested his chin atop Takao's head, “Maybe just at home until we're comfortable and then we'll go from there.”

“You keep saying 'we'. It's not really your problem, you know.”

“Nonsense. Of course it is. If it's yours it's mine. And you've been my problem for a very long time,” he said, with a tight squeeze around Takao's body.

“Not for as long as you've been mine, though.”

“True. I guess I'll just have to make it up to you.”

~~

Takao stared into the mirror, eyes tracing over the figure before him. He barely even recognized himself. The person in the mirror had longer hair than his, reaching just past their shoulders. And their face – he blinked, clearing his vision – their face was beautiful. Sparkly peach coloured lips and rosy red cheeks and gorgeous eyes outlined in black with a dusting of light blue to match her dress. His eyes widened in shock and the brush fell from his hand with a loud clatter as a rush of panic hit him. He didn't think he could do this. He braced his hands against the sink and squeezed his eyes shut, hiding from his reflection. What if Midorima saw him and changed his mind? What if he realized how fucked up this was and decided he couldn't handle it. What if he-

His thoughts were interrupted by two soft knocks on the door, “Takao? Are you alright?” Midorima's voice was steady and calm, two things he desperately wished he could be at the moment.

“Yeah! Just, uh...” he trailed off, lost for words.

“Do you need any help? Should I come-”

“No!” Takao cut him off with a panicked shout. “No, I'm alright. I just-” he breathed deeply, looking up at his reflection once more, “need some time.” There was quiet and then a dull thud as Midorima slid to the ground and leaned against the bathroom door.

“Alright.”

Takao couldn't stop looking at himself. At all the ways his face had changed yet stayed the same. A part of him was grateful for all the differences. Glad that, if he were to walk down the street, not many would realize it was him. Instead they'd see a stunning young lady, covered in the colours of the rainbow and shining like the sun. But if they were to look closer, or if they knew him like Midorima did, they might recognize the shape and colour of his eyes and how they observed more than they should be able to. They might see her smile and be reminded of his but not completely because her's would be brighter, happier.  
“Shin-chan, I-”

“Yes?”

“Ah, it's nothing. Are you gonna stay there?” Takao asked.

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“As long as you need me to.” He sighed and went to join Midorima on the ground.

Resting his head against the door between them he asked, “But what if I don't– what if I'm not–,” he pulled his legs up to his chest, “I don't know if I'm ready. Sorry.”

“There's no need to apologize. I can leave if you want me to. I could get groceries, or just head out for a while. Would that help?”

Takao sighed, “No, please don't leave.” He didn't know how to explain what he was feeling. He wanted Midorima to see, he knew he would have to show him eventually. He needed Midorima to tell him that he still loved him and accept him and tell him he was pretty but he didn't want to take that risk. He didn't want to confront that small possibility that things weren't going to be alright.

“Why don't you describe it to me?”

“Huh?”

“Tell me how you look. So I can see it too.” Takao looked down at himself, wondering where to begin. Something easy. Something that wouldn't involve him looking up at his reflection again. He'd probably start crying if he did.

“Well, uh, the dress looks nice,” he said, “It's different, but like, a nice different. Thank you, by the way, it really is quite pretty.”

“Yes well, you do learn some things when you're forced to be around Kise. Whether you want to or not. I suppose I'll have to thank him though,” he added in a disgruntled voice.

“Maybe I should too. Do you think–,” Takao glanced down again, “Never mind.”

“What about in a month or two? What if you thanked him then?”

“Maybe... I don't know.”

“Okay.” There was a long drawn out pause and then, “But how do _you_ look? How do you feel?”

Takao rested his head on his knees. How _did_ he feel? He was scared. That one would be obvious to anyone. And excited. And definitely nervous. But also happy. Happy because _he_ could finally be _she_ on those days that made his skin itch. Happy because she didn't look as hideously out of place as the thought he would. Happy because-

“Shin-chan, she's gorgeous,” he breathed out, barely a whisper.

“Gorgeous? Tell me more.”

“I mean, her hair is – is nice. And her eyes are pretty. And her nose and her mouth and her face–,” Takao shot up, hand hovering over the door handle. It was now or never. Gripping the handle tightly he yanked the door open, ready to present his new image.

What he conveniently forgot, however, was Midorima leaning against the other side. With a surprised shout he fell sideways, sprawled half in the bathroom and half in the hallway. His glasses went crooked and his eyes were wide and Takao's worries flew away in the face of such an image. He doubled over, laughing so hard he had to kneel on the ground, and then laughed even harder when Midorima pushed himself up with an annoyed frown.

“A little warning next time,” Midorima said with a scowl.

“Oh god, Shin-chan, your face,” Takao managed between breaths, “Sorry.” And then Midorima looked at him. _Really_ looked at him. Wide eyes and a half opened mouth replaced the frown and all of Takao's insecurities came back with a vengeance. They were silent as they looked at each other, Midorima's eyes roaming everywhere while Takao's stayed fixated on him. It dragged on and Takao was sure his heart was beating so hard it would break his ribs. Tentatively, Midorima's hands came up to cradle his face, thumbs stroking lightly over his cheeks.

“You were right,” he said softly, eyes still gazing at his face.

“About what?” Takao felt so nervous, like he was going to be sick. Was he right to worry? To think of the worst case scenario?

“Gorgeous,” Midorima whispered. And then he kissed him lightly on his forehead. The relief rushed in so fast Takao could only sit there and cry, holding Midorima tighter than he had ever done before. He had been scared- so overwhelmingly terrified. To let those feelings go, to be loved and accepted- he wiped at his eyes as Midorima's hands rubbed along his back.

“You're going to ruin your makeup.” he said, turning his head and kissing Takao's ear lightly.

“Right. Yea,” Takao sat back and started wiping at his face until Midorima pushed his hands out of the way and started dabbing with a tissue.

“How about a movie?”

“Huh?” Takao blinked up at Midorima.

“We can watch a movie and order something to eat. Does that sound okay?” Takao smiled softly.

“Yea, that sounds great.” Midorima pushed himself to his feet, grabbing Takao's hands he pulled him up as well. They settled on the couch, Midorima wrapped around Takao, holding him close enough to feel his heartbeat slowly calm down. He doesn't know what he expected but he certainly enjoyed the sense of ease that settled over them. Yea sure, there might have been a little more hair in his face than usual, but everything else was exactly the same. Warm and comfortable. But there was still one thing bothering him. Well not exactly bothering, but he was concerned.

“Hey Shin-chan, I can hear you thinking. What is it?”

“I was just...wondering. Do I always call you Takao? Or Kazunari? Or...”

“How about you call me Nari?” Takao wiggled around to face him, “Not today though. Because I’m not today. This is just sort of a test run.... but other days, when I am.”

“Nari?”

“Yea. Sounds feminine enough.” Takao yawned and pushed his face into Midorima's chest, wrapping an arm around him.

“You're missing the movie.”

“I've already seen it,” his reply was muffled.

“Should I put something else on?”

“Nah, just lemmie lie here. You're really comfortable. Like a breathing pillow.”

“I'm pleased you think so highly of me,” Midorima replied sarcastically, running his hand through Takao's hair.

“Mhmm, the highest,” Takao kissed his collar bone, “Thank you, by the way. Thank you so much, I-” he took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

“Shh, it's alright,” Midorima said as he kissed his head, “everything's alright.”

And it was.

 


End file.
